


Revenge

by FrozenLakeBeast



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Chubby Russia, Feeding, Force-Feeding, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain, eventually chubby prussia, tight clothes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenLakeBeast/pseuds/FrozenLakeBeast
Summary: Russia is tired of being the only big-boned country, so he feeds Prussia. Prussia isn't totally against it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on DA, then ff.net, but I really like the tagging here. This was started in like 2012, maybe I'll...finish it...

Today was turning out to be a terrible day. First, Russia had woken up much too late, and with all the symptoms of a hangover. This was annoying; he was certain he didn't drink that much last night. Or, at the very least, not enough to warrant this. Second, since he woke up so late, he didn't have time to shower or have breakfast. Russia wasn't so bothered about having to skip a shower (it wasn't like he needed to, and it was better to conserve water. Right?), but he wasn't so thrilled about skipping breakfast. It was probably better this way, however, since he'd reached his third problem: finding pants that fit. He couldn't wear the pants he wore every day to the world meeting, but his formal slacks were... a bit too tight. After a few precious minutes of struggling, he finally managed to button them. He felt more than a little uncomfortable, but there wasn't much he could do at this point. The meeting was in the city and started in...ten minutes. It took at least thirty to get there on a good day. As stated before, today was not one of those days. In fact, as it turned out, he'd be lucky to get there in the first hour, because problem number four had made itself apparent: his car wouldn't start. Russia didn't have time to think about _why_ or how to fix it, just that he needed to get to the meeting and _how could he get there when his car wouldn't work_. It was unlikely that someone would come get him, the buses didn't run this far out of town, and it would take _forever_ for a taxi to come. His only option, it seemed, was to walk.

Luckily for Russia, after walking for a good long while he managed to find a bus heading in the general direction he was and arrived at the meeting only an hour and a half late. When he walked into the room, Germany looked like he was going to say something but decided not to. No one else said anything, either. This was just fine with Russia, who found a seat and started taking notes.

He looked at his watch. Only two more hours until lunch. He could make it.

His stomach growled. Oh. _Only_ two more hours until lunch. He knew he'd gone much longer without food, but he also knew how terrible those times had been. His stomach growled again, louder and longer, and he blushed when America turned around to give him a nasty smirk. He wasn't really in the mood for fighting, and did his best to concentrate only on his notes, especially as his stomach growled again. This was going to be a long two hours.

~

Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was time for lunch. The nations had an hour to do what they wanted. Some went off to do their own thing within the building and city, though most went to the cafeteria. Russia followed along, piling his plate high with foods from the Slavic, French, Chinese, and Italian tables. He knew this wouldn't help his weight problem and that the other countries were (probably) staring and snickering at him, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. That was for later. Now was for eating.

~

About halfway through with his meal he started to reach a comfortable fullness. He wouldn't stop until his plate was empty (because it was a waste of food and rude otherwise), but...his pants, already painfully tight, were beginning to dig into his stomach. He wanted to unbutton them, but there were people around! Perhaps...he should go to the bathroom and do it there. Yes.

Standing up proved to be rather uncomfortable as well, and walking had its own level of discomfort. He finally got to the bathroom, and slipped into the handicapped stall. It was embarrassing to fix himself like this in the open – what if someone walked in?!

Russia took off his coat, pulled up his shirt (which had already been rolling up a bit), reached under his belly, and unbuttoned his pants. They unzipped themselves, and he just left them that way. He held his pants up using just his belt, which, regretfully, was on the last loop. His coat was long enough to cover it, so he wouldn't worry about it just now. As he left, he checked himself in the mirror. He certainly didn't look his best, but it was good enough.

~

Just as Russia finished his lunch (with a few minutes to go), a tray full of food from the Germanic table slammed down across from him.

"Hey, fatass, did you like your first chin so much you decided to grow two more?"

Before he could stop it, his hand flew to his chin. He only had one! He'd made sure of that in the bathroom. Sure, it was probably a lot fleshier than it should have been, and kind of looked like two sometimes, but...lots of people's chins did that!

After he'd recovered, he looked up to see who had spoken. "Gilbert."

Gilbert, who was currently gasping for breath, pounding on the table, and shoving food into his mouth all at the same time, managed to choke out, "Your _face_! _Mein Gott_ , if my camera still worked, your face would be all over my blog!"

Russia had two options. He could break Prussia in half right now, or he could be personable and friendly like his boss sometimes asked. True, Prussia wasn't really a country anymore, but he was linked to Germany. There was no doubt that whatever Russia did to Prussia, his brother would take as a personal attack. He should really try to be polite. "Why did your camera break," he asked, without any actual interest or tonal inflections.

"Eh, I dropped it in a mug of beer last night. Dunno why, I wasn't really using it... What, do want some?"

Russia had been staring at Prussia's mouth, wondering how it could do so many things at once; he was pretty sure Prussia wasn't breathing, and talking as he swallowed. At the question, he shook his head and placed a hand on his stomach. "Ah...I believe I've already had too much."

Prussia waved off Russia's answer and shoveled some food onto his plate. "You're already so big, what's a bit more going to do? I don't think I have time to finish without help."

Russia was fairly certain that was another jab at his weight, but Prussia was right. There wasn't much time left. The cafeteria was nearly empty, and he should really head back, but...he couldn't turn down food. He'd lived through enough famines and food shortages to learn that turning down offered food was not a thing one did. So, despite his already moderately uncomfortable fullness, he ate. "Why are you here?"

"My brother and I went out for lunch, and I decided to follow him back here, to see what you all were up to. Everyone was at lunch, so I thought, 'Why not?'"

Finished, Russia leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. He really was far too full, and wished he could loosen his belt a few notches. It and the teeth of his zipper were digging uncomfortably into the flesh of his belly. "Why did you sit with me? Weren't France and Spain here?"

Prussia shrugged. "Everyone else was leaving. Besides, I'd look like a fatass eating this much alone."

But...Russia had eaten that much alone. So did he look like a fatass? _Again_ with the weight. Russia knew he wasn't thin, but did they _really_ have to rub it in constantly? More importantly, everyone was gone? A quick survey of the room showed that yes, everyone else was gone. A time check showed the meeting started five minutes ago. _Shit_. Russia stood up and gathered his things. This was the second time he was late today, in a meeting in his own _country_. This was beyond embarrassing. He turned to leave, but being friendly and polite meant saying good-bye, right? Even if he didn't particularly care for the person. Well. It didn't mean he'd have to be _nice_. "I have to go thank you for the food good-bye." He spoke as if he were reading it off a teleprompter, and with no emotion at all.

"Hey, wait! Why bother going back? You're already late. West told me you were late this morning, too. What's it even matter? It can't be that important."

Looking back at Prussia, he looked absolutely pathetic. Pale, scrawny (how could he stay so thin, eating two lunches?), and forlorn, though he was trying hard to cover that up. Russia felt kind of bad leaving him like this, but he really needed to get back. "I have to go to a meeting in my own country. It's bad manners not to. But...perhaps, if you want, you can come to my house later. For dinner."

Russia knew Prussia wasn't exactly fond of him, either, so he was more than surprised when Prussia shrugged and said, "Why the hell not. Guess I'll see you later, then?"

Russia nodded and quickly left, not thrilled to be stared at again for being late.


	2. Chapter 2

After the meeting, Russia wandered outside, wondering if the bus that he'd caught that morning was anywhere around. He didn't see it, and it didn't seem like it was coming any time soon, so Russia started walking home. Actually, he should probably buy bigger pants while he was out. And a belt. And maybe some food for dinner? But he'd have to carry it all, so maybe not. Just the things that wouldn't be too bulky to carry.

An obnoxious car horn pulled Russia from his thoughts on what he had to do. When he looked around to find the source, and equally obnoxious laugh joined in with the horn.

Of course. Gilbert.

Prussia rolled down the window of his Trabant and, still smirking in an unpleasant way, said,"You look like an absolute idiot walking! Get in the car."

Russia, who felt he could easily take Prussia if it came to it, got in the car. "Thank you."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Don't thank me, asshole. You look beyond stupid trying to walk along the side of the road. You just going home?"

"Ah, no, I needed to run some errands."

"Well see, it would have been dumb of you to try without a car. Where do you need to go?"

Russia told him, and asked, "Why do you care?"

Prussia stared at the road. "You didn't tell me to shut up or go away earlier. And weren't we hanging out?"

Russia blinked. "I was being nice. And I invited you to dinner, that's all."

Prussia's grip tightened on the wheel. "Oh."

Had he done something wrong? He didn't _think_ so..."What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't care," Prussia mumbled. He fumbled for the radio, and suddenly the car was filled with loud music and people screaming in German, with Prussia screaming along with them.

~

Russia's house wasn't in the best of shape. It wasn't as bad as it had been two decades ago, but it had certainly seen better days. He felt a little embarrassed before he remembered who he was with. Then he forgot to care.

He walked inside, ready to put everything away. Prussia trailed along behind him, looking distant and a bit like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. When Russia turned to look directly at him, though, he stood up straight and put on an expression that fell somewhere between "I Have Better Things to Do" and "I'm Just Humoring You, Really".

"I have to go upstairs to take care of some things. Please don't destroy anything."

"Right. Like there's anything worth breaking here anyhow," Prussia scoffed, "You don't even have anything cool to do."

"I have Tetris."

"Of course you do."

Russia went upstairs to change into something that didn't hurt every time he tried to walk, or breath, or do anything at all, really. When he came back downstairs to put the groceries and whatnot in the kitchen, he noticed a large suitcase by the door, a laptop open on the couch, and no Prussia. Oh, well.

It turned out Prussia was just in Russia's kitchen, raiding his fridge. "You've got way more food in your house than West. It all sucks."

"Why is there a suitcase by my door?"

Prussia straightened up and looked uncomfortable. "Ah...West kicked me out. For a while. Not long. Maybe."

"And you think you can stay here."

"Well, um, yeah? It's not like you don't have room. You probably won't even see me."

But Russia would _hear_ him. He liked liveliness, sure, but there was a limit. Prussia exceeded that limit every time he opened his mouth. On the other hand...

Russia really was tired of all those jabs at his weight. Maybe if there was another… _big-boned_ country-thing the comments would stop? And here, standing in his kitchen and eating his food, was an opportunity. Russia was not fond of missing those.

"Of course you can stay!" Russia smiled broadly. "You can even have the room you used to use when you stayed over, if you want."

"Ah, no. I think I'll pass. I'll find another to use."


	3. Chapter 3

Prussia looked down at his half-full plate. "I'm full."

Russia, who had finished his seconds long ago and had been watching Prussia eat since then, didn't quite believe that. "Really? I thought your stomach was a bottomless pit."

Prussia gave Russia a dirty look. "Yeah, you, too."

Russia winced internally. He wasn't sure if he felt full, but he knew he didn't feel like he was done. But...he was getting too big! People were beginning to make comments. Just the other day, in fact, his boss suggested he try and lose a few kilos. However, this was not the way this conversation was to go. "I made it all for you."

"Yeah, well, you made too much."

 _Oh, dear_. This was not how things were supposed to go, not at all. Prussia was supposed to eat it all! Didn't he like it? Maybe if he'd made German food...but it was too late for that! If Prussia wasn't going to eat it on his own, Russia just supposed he'd have to _help_ him. "If you won't eat it, then I'll _make_ you eat it."

Prussia let out a bark of laughter. "I'd like to see you try."

Faster than should have been possible, Russia was across the table and in front of Prussia with a forkful of food, saying "Open wide!"

"Like hell I'll let you feed me."

"If you don't cooperate I'll sit on you and force it down your throat." Russia nudged the fork closer to Prussia's mouth, waiting for him to either accept it or speak again.

Prussia turned his head away from the fork. "You'll make me puke!"

"I'll make sure you don't. I'll only be sitting on your legs!" Russia paused. “But, if you're really against it, I'll only tie you up.”

 

~

It turned out that tying up Prussia was exactly what needed to happen. Russia made sure the rope was loose enough so as not to be uncomfortable, but at the same time tight enough so that Prussia couldn't really move. He only tied his hands, though.

Russia started massaging Prussia's shoulders. “You should really try to relax. It'll make everything easier.”

“Are you trying to be soothing? Because you're not.”

Russia was, actually, trying to be just that. He felt it would be much easier if Prussia would just sit there and eat like he was supposed to. “I promise I'll stop when you begin to look ill. But please don't throw up. That would be wasteful. We can't do that.”

Prussia squirmed around and watched Russia with wild eyes. Slightly baffled, he asked, “Who's 'we'?”

Russia ignored the question. “If you try to stand I'll tie your legs. I don't want to have to do that.” He refilled Prussia's plate and brought it closer to them. “Open wide!”

Prussia did, likely to complain again, and found his mouth full. As he chewed and swallowed, Russia waited with another forkful. They were going to clear the table whether Prussia liked it or not.

~

A while later, Prussia was beginning to protest more so than before. His shirt was riding up just enough to show some stomach-bloating, and he was squirming around so much that Russia began to think he should have tied him at the waist, too. That idea was quickly dismissed, though, when he remembered how uncomfortable it was having things dig into your stomach. Along that train of thought, Russia undid Prussia's pants and rubbed his stomach, looking at the table.

He hadn't done bad. Russia had been hoping for more, but not much was left on the table. Really, it was just a few stray pelmini and two pirozhki. Maybe they weren't done yet.

“Do you think you can eat more?”

“Does it look like I can eat more?”

“You should try. You're still so thin. Doesn't Germany feed you?”

“He asked the same thing about you when the Wall came down.”

Lucky for Prussia, Russia wasn't paying attention anymore. Instead, he was rounding up the last scraps of food to feed to Prussia. “Please don't make me eat these. I really shouldn't.”

Prussia just gave Russia a Look. “Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?”

“But you didn't!”

“Please don't make me eat those.” Prussia said, completely void of emotion.

Russia giggled. “It's too late now! It doesn't count.” And he shoved a pelmini in Prussia's mouth.

Prussia barely chewed, swallowing the thing nearly whole. “I'm really full. I don't want to eat more.”

“You should still try. Look, there isn't much left.” Though there wasn't, Prussia looked like he was falling asleep, and his stomach was hard and distended and painful-looking. Russia took pity on him and ate a pirozhki, just to help him out.

“But I really don't want any more...” Prussia mumbled.

“Here.” Russia stabbed one of the last pelmini and put it in Prussia's mouth. He then took his jaw and made him chew. “Swallow.”

Prussia did. He repeated this process until nothing was left. Russia then untied Prussia's hands gently picked him up, and carried him to the couch. “I'm going upstairs to change. Please don't try to leave.” Prussia merely nodded. Russia doubted he heard.

~

Prussia was still laying on the couch when Russia came back downstairs wearing his pajamas. His eyes were open, though. Russia sat down next to him and rubbed Prussia's stomach. “Are you ready for dessert?”

“What?”

“I have a nice chocolate cake from Ukraine. I don't want to eat it alone.”

Prussia gaped at Russia. “How could you think I want to eat more? Can't you...wait a bit? Next week, is good.”

Russia smiled. “But next week it will be bad! We should eat it tonight. Though, I guess we can wait a little longer.” He stood up and began walking towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No.”

Russia shrugged. A moment later he came back with a shot glass and a bottle of vodka. He measured out a shot and offered both the glass and bottle to Prussia, who shook his head “no”. Russia shrugged again, in a 'suit yourself' kind of way, and downed the shot. He hadn't had a drink all day and he decided he deserved one (or more). He had, at least, succeeded in cutting back in the alcohol department, and felt a bit proud of himself. (Though, it never lasted long.)

~

After a while of just sitting there, rubbing Prussia's stomach (in what Russia hoped was a soothing way) and drinking, he got up to get the cake and a fork. Clearly, Prussia was not going anywhere. Besides, he had a lot of locks on his door, and only locked some of them. If nothing else, it would surely slow Prussia down long enough for Russia to restrain him and convince him to stay. (It was actually quite troublesome; Russia himself often forgot which locks he locked, and then spent forever locking and unlocking all of them, trying to get into his house. It was the worst after a long day of work.)

When he returned, he sat down next to Prussia and ate a forkful. He then leaned forward and nudged Prussia's cheek with the fork. Prussia groaned and turned his head away, mumbling something about “going the fuck to bed. Jesus, Russia, don’t you sleep”. (Which, of course, was silly -- of course he slept! Sleeping was one of his favorite things, after alcohol and cake!) After eating the bite that should have been Prussia’s as well as another, Russia tried feeding Prussia again. “Gilbert,” he began, “If you do not eat what I give you, I am throwing you out. Now.” Of course, the cold outside wouldn’t _kill_ the Prussian, but it would be quite uncomfortable. Not to mention, it would be difficult finding someone else so _kind_ and _willing_ to take in the loud, annoying ex-country on such short notice. Ivan believed it would not actually happen.

Prussia turned his head slowly and, shooting Russia the dirtiest glare he could muster in his sleepy state, ate the cake.

It was very good. Prussia found himself completely willing to eat the cake, savoring the chocolate flavor between bites. As they shared the cake, Prussia realized two things: feeling stuffed to the brim was not a bad feeling, and he would _never_ , on pain of death or otherwise, admit this new realization. He also thought that, if Ukraine had always cooked like this and gave her brother food, no wonder he was so fat.

He might have actually voiced that last thought.

Oops.

A sudden slap to the face and incredibly painful punch to the gut (which sent Prussia lurching forward, adding to the pain) told him that yes, he said the last thought aloud.  
“I am _not_ fat,” said a clearly irate Russia. “ _Do not_ ever say that again.”

“You _are_ , though. Have you even seen yourself?”

Russia growled and stood up, grabbing the plate with what was left of the cake, and the vodka bottle. “Maybe it’s everyone else who’s too thin. Like you. But I won’t be the only one.” He turned and walked away towards the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he called, “Go to bed or leave. I don’t care.” Once in the kitchen, he finished off the cake and the bottle. It would certainly set his plans back a bit if Gilbert left, but maybe he could find someone else. Someone better, more compliant, less loud and rowdy. Easier to understand. Russia snorted at that thought as he went up to bed.

Prussia, too full and sore and tired and, somehow, _angry_ , just fell asleep on the couch.

Whatever.


	4. Chapter 4

Russia woke up groggy and still kind of full. But it was morning, and morning meant breakfast. He showered, found a shirt and pants that went on with little difficulty (he only had to suck in his stomach to button them as opposed to awkwardly shuffling and rolling around on his bed), grabbed a bottle of German-made beer (he'd found it a few weeks ago in his desk, God knows what it was doing there) off of his shelf, and went downstairs to see the state of Prussia.

He was sleeping, sprawled out on the couch with his mouth open, snoring loudly. His shirt was riding up a bit, and from this angle his stomach still looked a bit swollen from the night before. Russia felt he was being optimistic when he hoped the swelling would yield pudge. That man had a fast as hell metabolism. He'd have to make sure Prussia was constantly eating if he wanted him to gain anything.

Russia let the bottle drop onto Prussia's stomach and flicked his head, as he sing-songed "Wake up, Gilbert!"

Prussia sputtered pulled away, causing him to hit his head on the arm of the couch. "What the fuck was that for?" he asked, rubbing his head.

From the kitchen where he was pouring himself a small shot of vodka to help him wake up, Russia called out, "Did you see what I found? I don't know why I had it, but you can have now it if you want!"

Prussia groaned. "Maybe later. It's too early to start drinking. People only drink in the morning if it's a holiday or they're an alcoholic."

Russia choked on his shot. "Y-yeah." He hoped the clinking of glass wouldn't be heard as he put the glass and bottle away. "What do you want for breakfast?" 

“Nothing.”

“You can't have nothing for breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day! How about I make some blini?”

“I don't want any. _Gott im Himmel_ I'm full.”

Russia walked to the couch, where Prussia was sitting up and rubbing his stomach. He frowned. “Gilbert. You will eat what I cook for you. Understand?” When Prussia rolled his eyes but still nodded, Russia brightened up. “How about we go food shopping today? We can find you some German food. Russian is the best, but I understand if you want something you're used to.”

“How generous,” Prussia grumbled. “I'm gonna take a shower.”

“Don't be long!” 

~

Prussia didn’t fight nearly as much at breakfast as he had the night before. Perhaps he was tired, but he ate enough that his stomach was newly swollen and hidden under a loose T-shirt. Russia wondered how many of these meals they would need to have before something stuck. 

After breakfast, as promised, they went grocery shopping. Sort of. Russia called to get his car towed and fixed, as neither he nor Prussia could figure out how to fix it. Russia also had some business to take care of with his boss, so the plan was for Prussia to drop him off at his boss’s office, then drive to the nearby shopping center and get what he wanted. Russia would join him when he was finished.

And he did. Soon after Prussia dropped him off, Russia came striding down the snack aisle. “That was fast.”

Russia grunted in response.

“How did it go?”

“It’s really none of your business.”

“Guess it didn’t go too well then, huh?”

“Are you almost done?” Russia snapped.

A bit taken aback, Prussia replied, “Sure, I just need to get...ah, nope, already got it. Yeah, I’m done.”

They paid and loaded the stuff into the car, all while Russia sulked and got increasingly angry. Prussia sped back to Russia’s house in hopes to get out of the small confines of the car before Russia let loose.

Prussia let the groceries sit in the car when they got back to the house, choosing instead to chase Russia in hopes of catching him before he vanished in the large expanse of the house. Talking him down now would be easier than cleaning up the mess later, Prussia knew. He managed to grab Russia on the stairs. “ _Now_ will you tell me what happened with your boss?”

Russia shook Prussia off, causing him to stumble backwards down the stairs. “It doesn’t matter! He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know! I…” He seemed to run out of steam, and fell heavily into a seating position on the stairs. He stared at a spot on the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists and jaw.

“Okay, I’m going to make lunch, and then we’ll talk, _ja_? But remember, he won’t be your boss forever. Humans don’t live that long.”

~

Once lunch was prepared and the table set, Prussia fetched Russia from the stairs. He hadn’t moved, though his breathing had evened out some. “I made wurst and potatoes. Your place is already set. I figured you wouldn’t want beer but wanted something alcoholic so I put vodka down, okay?”

Russia nodded and Prussia went back to the eating area, where Russia joined him soon after. They sat down, and Prussia said, “Now, tell me what happened with your boss.”

Russia stared at his plate for a few moments before speaking. “I walked in and handed him the papers, the resolution drafts, he needed. That’s all it should have been! But he stopped me, made me turn around, take off my coat, give him a good look at me, and I - I _knew_ what was coming and let it happen. _You’ve gotten fat_ , he says. _I can’t have my country be fat. It makes me look bad._ And I - he said he couldn’t have a fat slob representing him, that my clothes don’t fit, I don’t care how I look and how are others supposed to fear and respect me if I don’t look powerful? But you know what,” he paused to take a gulp of his vodka, squeezing the glass so it groaned, “ _Fuck him_. I had the biggest military in the world, was _the most powerful_ , and do you know what it got me? _Nothing_. No one will even look my direction anymore. They’re all afraid of me. I don’t want that. I lost all my friends and now I’m going to do what I want and I want to eat.”

“Wow, uh.” Prussia said as Russia dug in. “Okay?”

Russia looked at him. “And so are you.”

“What!?”

“If you want to stay here, you will be eating all the time. You won’t be done until you can’t fit in your clothes anymore, until you have to borrow mine.”

“Okay, well, first of all that’s _insane_ , and secondly that’ll take forever ‘cause you’re huge.”

Russia smiled, showing more teeth than necessary. “I saw you at breakfast today. You liked eating more than you could handle. It felt good, didn’t it, being overfull? I could tell you liked it.” 

“Well, okay, yeah it felt good but not _all the time_! It’s not fun if you do it too much.”

“But it will be fun! And if you really don’t want to, you can always leave.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t really. Remember, I have no where else to go.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Russia mused as he went back to his meal.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Prussia spoke again. “Hey, Russia?”

“Hm?”

“You may have put on some weight, but it doesn’t look bad or anything. It looks good on you. It’s cute.”

Russia blushed deeply and hummed. “Finish your meal, Gilbert. I’m sure you’ll look also look cute when you get fat.”


	5. Chapter 5

After lunch, Russia sent Prussia back into the living room with a bag of chips and box of donuts to do...whatever it was he did in his free time. Russia cleaned off the table, which had been cleared of all food by the two of them. True, there hadn’t been quite as much as the night before or that morning, but there was still a pretty significant amount. Russia felt pleasantly full as he brought the dishes into the kitchen to be cleaned. His pants still felt tight and were pinching at his waist a little, but now that he decided he no longer cared about what others thought, he found it felt kind of nice. He stood in the kitchen and thought about what to bake for Prussia.

A bit over two hours later, Russia brought a large German chocolate cake and sugar cookies into the living room. He put them on the coffee table, next to Prussia’s laptop. Prussia was lying on the couch, one hand still in the bag of chips and the other up his shirt, resting on his stomach. The empty doughnut box lay on its side next to the couch. Russia kind of wanted to take a picture. Instead, he poked Prussia awake.

Grumbling, Prussia sat up and tried to right himself. “What do you want?”

“I have more cake to share! And cookies, but those are all yours.”

Prussia groaned. “Can it wait? I was sleeping.”

“Nope! It can’t wait, because after this will be dinner, and then dessert, and then your midnight snack,” Russia sat down and cut a large slice of the cake and handed it to Prussia, who accepted it. He cut a smaller piece for himself. “I told you you would be eating all the time, and I meant it!”

“Ugh. I already feel like I’m gonna pop. This is really good, though.”

Russia smiled. “Thank you! I made it. I like to bake, but no one ever wants to share with me so I have to eat it all alone. But now you’re here, and I don’t have to anymore!”

“Gee, thanks.”

Russia cut himself another, slightly larger slice and stood up. “I have some work to do, but I’ll come back in a bit to make sure you ate everything, okay?”

Prussia nodded and ate a sugar cookie. “As much as I don’t want to finish, I probably will. This tastes great.”

~

Russia finished off his second slice of cake as he walked to his office. Sitting down in his chair, the top of his pants folded over so his stomach could roll out. He watched it happen and thought about his plan of making Prussia fat. Sure, it seemed to be working so far, at least in making Prussia eat _more_ , but there was the downside of _him_ eating more, too. True, he no longer ate everything he made, but he was also making more: bigger meals and more often. And even though the snacks he made were for Prussia, he wanted some, too, and he didn’t have a lot of willpower when it came to turning down food.

In the living room, Prussia ate and researched. He learned that drinking soda stretched the lining of your stomach, or something, so he went to the kitchen to find some. Naturally, Russia didn’t have any. He found kvass, though, and figured it would be close enough. He poured himself a glass and went back to the living room. He sat on the couch and finished the bag of chips first. Then he ate the cake, alternating slices and sips of the kvass. The cake really was very good: rich and creamy and heavy enough to make him want to take another nap. When he started feeling uncomfortably full, he pulled the cookies closer to him and laid down on the couch with what was left of the cake sitting on his chest. He fed himself with one hand and rubbed his stomach with the other until the cake was gone. He struggled to sit up to get the cookies, but his stomach was too full and hard and wouldn’t bend to let him get up. So instead, he reached to the coffee table and pulled the cookies closer so he could reach them easier. He continued this way until the cookies were gone, then rubbed his stomach until he fell asleep.

About an hour later, Russia came back into the living room to find Prussia asleep, again. He cleaned up the other’s area, then went back to him. Prussia’s stomach was very bloated, and hard to the touch. When Russia rubbed it, trying to feel for any new softness, Prussia opened his eyes. Russia quickly withdrew his hand, but Prussia reached out for it. “Mmn, that felt nice. We eatin’ again?”

Russia replaced his hand on Prussia’s stomach and resumed rubbing it. “Not yet. I was just about to start, what do you want?”

“Hm. Pasta. Italy makes some, it’s so good I could eat a whole pot of it.”

“ _Could_ you eat a whole pot?”

“Probably not. Not today. But when I eat his I feel like I want to, it’s just so good.”

Russia smiled and pat Prussia’s stomach. “We’ll work up to it.”

When Russia left the room Prussia dragged his laptop over to him and picked it up. He rested it on his stomach and logged on. The weight and pressure hurt in a weird-good way, but the warmth of it was nice. He thought he’d do more research into whatever the fuck Russia was trying to do, and also update his blog! He wanted to brag about all the awesome food he was eating and how he was being waited on hand-and-foot by the world’s biggest hellbeast. Yesterday wasn’t super awesome but today definitely was!

~

After dinner Prussia retreated back to the couch, where he still felt sleepy but didn’t sleep. Instead, he blogged some more until Russia came out with popcorn and snacks. They watched a movie on TV, and when it was over they had dessert (cheesecake and some fruit thing). Then, Russia went to bed and Prussia went off to find a bedroom. His stuff was still in the hallway where he’d left it the day before, it was just a bit messier now from being rummaged through for a clean set of clothes. 

As much as he said he didn’t want to, he found himself back at his old room. He wanted to, _tried_ even, to pick a different room, but they all felt wrong. Even though they’d all been cleaned out, redone, and didn’t belong to anyone any longer, Lithuania’s room was still Lithuania’s room, Ukraine’s was still Ukraine’s, and so on. Even the guest rooms didn’t feel quite right. Prussia unpacked, undressed, and put on his pajamas before deciding he didn’t really want to wear the bottoms. It _was_ cold without them, but they were tight around his very distended gut and, therefore, not comfortable as pajamas should be. He crawled into bed and fell asleep soon after, despite sleeping almost all day.

He slept pretty soundly, and was in the middle of a _really_ good dream when suddenly he wasn’t anymore and was staring into glowing purple eyes. Prussia yelped and tried moving away, but the creature had him and wouldn’t let go and - !

“Gilbert, sit up. It’s time for your snack.” 

Right, that was a thing now. Prussia sat up and let Russia put the tray on his lap. On the tray was a bowl with a large ice cream sundae, drenched in chocolate syrup. Prussia looked at Russia, who handed him a spoon. “Where’s yours?” 

“ _I’m_ not the one trying to get fat, remember? So I don’t need to eat as often as you. Besides…,” Russia blushed, “I already ate what wouldn’t fit in the bowl.”

Prussia didn’t point out how Russia _was_ eating as often as him, and instead asked, a little wary, “What wouldn’t fit in the bowl? What do you mean?” 

“It was a gallon of ice cream, but the bowl wasn’t big enough so I ate the rest. You should start eating before it melts.”

So he did. He ate as much as he could, but after all he’d eaten that day found he couldn’t finish it. Russia showed a rare bit of mercy and let Prussia go back to sleep without finishing it, promising again that they’d “work up to it”. The last thing Prussia saw as he fell asleep was Russia finishing off the sundae and rubbing his own stomach as he walked out.


	6. Chapter 6

A few weeks passed, and they settled into a routine. They would wake up, have breakfast, then a snack, then lunch, another snack, dinner, dessert, and a snack in the middle of the night. Between meals, Prussia would sleep and surf the web, and Russia would work. Sleep, wake up, repeat.

After the first day, Russia really tried to limit himself on how much he ate with Prussia. He tried _hard_. It seemed inevitable, though, that he would fail. Yes, he was no longer actively trying to lose weight, but he wasn’t trying to gain any, either. But as his clothes got increasingly harder to put on, he felt like giving up. It was nice, though, having someone else around who would eat the leftovers, who ate more than he did. For once in his life Russia felt like he had a modest appetite, and he liked it.

Russia honestly couldn’t tell if Prussia had gained weight or not. Sure, he’d taken to lounging around in his underwear and a T-shirt as he constantly ate, but his stomach was always so hard and bloated that Russia wasn’t sure what it would look like if it finally went down.

Russia’s stomach, by contrast, was very soft. Very soft and very big. Looking at it, he got an idea of what he wanted to do today. He headed for his closet and started digging through it.

~

When Russia finally got downstairs, Prussia was already awake and on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. He had the TV remote next to him and a box of doughnuts resting on his stomach. Russia grabbed two. “Have you started breakfast?”

“ _Ja_ , I have wurst, eggs, ham, and bacon cooking. Why?”

“I’m going to make some waffles, too.”

“Oh, sure, that’s sounds good. But why do you want -” Prussia turned around and looked at Russia. “What are you wearing?!”

Russia wore the clothes he’d worn to the last world meeting, minus the belt (which hadn’t even met end-to-end, let alone buckle). He hadn’t worn them since, and once they were on him it was obvious why. Simply, they didn’t fit. The pants, through some miracle, still buttoned, though they didn’t zip. They felt as though they were bursting at the seams, and they would pop off if he so much as breathed too deeply. The shirt was very tight and most of the buttons strained to stay shut as the shirt puckered around them, showing little windows of flesh. The bottom of the shirt and the top of his pants didn’t quite meet, showing Prussia a strip of soft, pale flesh.

From the way Prussia was staring at him, Russia began to think this wasn’t a good idea after all. “I...I wanted to break these. I obviously won’t be able to wear them again, and I thought it’d be fun. And maybe after I’m done, you could try yours.”

Prussia looked off to the side. “Uh…okay. I’ll try later.” He stood up. “I’m gonna go check on breakfast, and then I’ll start your waffles.” He gestured to the box of doughnuts. “You can finish those, if you want. To get started on popping your buttons.”

Russia didn’t really want to eat out of view of the Prussian (he didn’t want him to miss anything!), so he picked up the box and followed him into the kitchen. He leaned on the counter and ate his second doughnut, then the three others left in the box. When nothing happened, he threw the box away and sat down at the table. 

Soon Prussia came out with the food, and Russia got up to help carry it out. When both plates were loaded nice and high, Russia adjusted his chair so that Prussia could see his stomach as he ate. Prussia noticed, and asked, “ _Now_ what are you doing?”

“I want you to see me eat,” Russia said simply.

“Well. Okay. I’ve watched you eat for _weeks_ and now I need to see the full show?”

“Yes. I’ve watched you gorge yourself, and now I want you to do the same.”

“Great, um, _why_?”

Russia smiled. “I thought that if you saw me grow out of my clothes, you would be inspired to emulate me and fulfill the deal.”

Prussia looked incredulous. “Okay. You know, sometimes you don’t seem like that bad of a guy, but then you say stuff like that and I remember why no one wants to talk to you.”

Russia’s smile turned a little forced. 

Prussia continued. “And if I remember right, the deal was I could stay until I outgrew my clothes _and_ could fit into yours. Which, at the rate I’m going, will be _years_. So I hope you like having a roommate.”

Russia frowned, a little. “What do you mean?”

“All my clothes still fit. Pretty well, actually. They feel a little tight, but that’s the style now I guess?”

Russia looked at his rapidly cooling plate, and then at his stomach that sort of sat on his lap. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly. Here was Prussia, actively trying to gain weight, eating fattening foods constantly, and you couldn’t even tell. Then there was Russia, who had gained so much recently without even trying that he was _literally_ popping out of his clothes. “That’s not fair at all.”

Prussia looked down, too. “No, it really isn’t.” Suddenly he brightened. “But anyway, you promised me a show? C’mon, let’s see those babies pop!”

Russia looked at Prussia, and finally forced a smile. “Okay.” He started eating, and by the time he finished the eggs, the button on his pants finally popped off. Prussia watched in fascination as Russia’s gut rolled forward and expanded, the gap between shirt and pants growing larger by the bite. As Russia finished his wurst and ham, Prussia refilled Russia’s plate with a tall stack of waffles and bacon, and Russia popped three more buttons on his shirt. As he watched, Prussia noticed that Russia gave little hums and grunts when he was really absorbed in eating. He thought that was cute.

Two buttons and two more helpings later, Russia finished. Panting, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “That was harder than I thought it’d be.”

Prussia grinned at him. “Really? I thought you did pretty well. It was cool to watch.”

Russia blushed. “Thank you. I’ve never tried to do that before. It happened only once before, on accident.”

Prussia now finally started to eat. “Well now you’ve got to tell me about that!”

“Ahh. It was in 18...89? 90? Something like that, and I lived with the Tsar, treated very well, you know. I was eating alone, as I often did, and. Well you know, how clothes in those days were practically painted on! The servant girl saw me, she was supposed to watch to make sure nothing happened, to clean up messes. She had brought me an entire goose and a tureen of soup, and I guess I ate too much. I heard a ping and saw that a button from my waistcoat had ricocheted off my bowl and hit her in the face. She needed stitches and neither of us wanted to tell what happened. Though I’m sure she told her friends and other servants. No one brought me that much food again. It was very embarrassing.” Russia looked over to Prussia, and found that he was laughing. “It isn’t funny!”

“It is! It’s hilarious! I can’t believe you’d keep that a secret for so long!”

“Why would I want to tell anyone? I shouldn’t have told _you_!” Russia stood up. “I’m going to change.”

“Wait!” Prussia shouted after him, “Wait! Don’t change.”

Russia turned. “Why? I don’t want to wear these anymore. They’re broken and uncomfortable.”

“Okay, so, take them off, but don’t put anything else on. Just boxers and a T-shirt, like me.”

Russia looked confused, and a little disgusted at the prospect. “Why?”

Prussia beamed. “It’s comfortable! And a lot easier to eat in, because they’re not restrictive!”

Russia kind of wanted to correct Prussia. _Prussia’s_ clothes may have been unrestricted, but Russia’s certainly weren’t. All of Russia’s clothes were too small and, therefore, uncomfortable. He kind of needed to go shopping soon. And slow down in his eating. Instead, though, Russia just nodded and went to get changed. 

Russia came back soon after he left, wearing, as he agreed, boxers and an undershirt. He also wore a bathrobe, and Prussia didn’t blame him. The house was still cold as fuck. Though...Prussia didn’t want to make Russia uncomfortable with his staring, but Prussia wanted to stare. He’d really filled out. The almost-not-quite double chin he’d seen on the day of the conference had swollen to a very-much-there double chin. His shirt was obviously too small for him, tight in the arms and neck. His chest still held the vague shape of pectorals, and they strained against the tight fabric. The shirt only covered up to his naval, leaving the rest of his stomach and thick lovehandles out in the open. Prussia couldn’t even see the waistband of his boxers; they rested on his hips, his stomach protruding and hanging slightly over in the front, a muffintop hiding where the elastic dug in at his sides. It was inevitable that Russia caught Prussia staring, and he tugged the bathrobe tightly around himself in an effort to cover up. It didn’t quite reach.

The rest of the day went much like any other. Prussia ate, slept, blogged, ate, fell asleep while eating, and Russia cleaned and worked, always making sure Prussia had something to snack on.

That night, though, when Prussia woke up for Russia’s NightTime Treat, he was met with more than just the large sundae.

That night, Russia had with him the sundae, a cake, a tray of eclairs, and a few slices of Bird’s Milk Cake.

“What’s going on? Why’d you bring so much today?” Prussia smirked, “Are you finally going to join me?”

“No.” When Prussia sat up, Russia sat in a chair next to his bed. “I thought we could try something different. You aren’t gaining enough, so maybe you should eat more at night.”

“Whatever, sure.” Prussia looked at the spread. He’d finally worked up to finishing just the sundae, but all of this... “I don’t know if I can finish it all.”

“You will. And if you need help I will give it. But you’re not allowed to sleep until all of this is gone.”

Prussia started eating. He ate the sundae with no problem, then started on the eclairs. Partway through he felt too full to continue, but didn’t want to give in to Russia yet. He ate two pieces of Bird’s Milk Cake before grunting and laying back down. “That’s it, it’s too much. I can’t finish.”

“Okay.” Russia stood up and took over. He shifted Prussia so he sat in a reclined position, then started feeding him. Russia rubbed Prussia’s stomach, who moaned and was very receptive to the feeding in his half-asleep state. He was pleased to find a smidge of pudge under Prussia’s naval, though it wasn’t nearly enough. He dug his fingers in it and pinched softly as he finished the rest of the eclairs and cake. When Prussia seemed to have really fallen asleep and failed to take any offered mouthfuls, Russia gathered up the empty plates and took them back to the kitchen, where he dumped them in the sink to wait until morning and finished the rest of the cake.


	7. Chapter 7

A few days into the new routine, Prussia found himself lasting longer, able to eat more before giving up and handing the reins to Russia. This night, as Russia was feeding him and rubbing his stomach, he received a sharp pinch to the side and a “Gilbert, look at this!” Groggily, Prussia opened his eyes and looked

In his hand Russia had a handful of fat, attached to Prussia’s side. 

“Get up, take off your shirt, I want to see!”

Prussia felt that Russia was acting unnecessarily giddy. “I’m sleeping, go away.”

“No, you can’t sleep until you finish all your dessert, and you didn’t finish yet, so get up and let me see you!”

Groaning, Prussia pushed aside the tray and covers to get up. Russia flicked on the light, and they stared at each other for a minute. “Well, come on,” Russia said.

Prussia took off his shirt and unsteadily stood up. Russia studied him. His stomach was still very full and round, but it poked out a little more under his belly button where Russia played with the fat. On his sides were the beginnings of lovehandles, and they flowed into softening hips. Russia couldn’t tell if there was any more evidence of Prussia’s weight gain, so he let him get back in bed so they could finish his dessert.

~

After that, the weight just rolled onto Prussia. Russia figured that he finally broke his metabolism by feeding him a large, sweet and very high in fat meal in the middle of the night. Prussia started wearing his regular clothes again, where the weight gain was obvious. He took pictures of and talked to his “awesome little belly”, and started a new blog to document his progress. 

Russia thought it was a little weird.

Their routine didn’t change, though Prussia no longer needed as much encouragement or help at night to finish the late-night meal.

Russia noticed, with some relief, that his clothes were no longer getting tighter at an alarmingly fast rate, though they were still tight and uncomfortable. Thankfully, his own weight gain seemed to have stopped, or at least slowed down significantly. Still though, he needed to go shopping. Today. 

Finally, after putting it off for weeks, Russia got ready to go buy new clothes. He walked down to invite Prussia along, and got laughed at.

“Seriously?” He said, “You're wearing _that_?” He gestured to Russia’s tracksuit, the only thing he currently owned that he thought suitable to wear in public.

“Yes? They're quite popular here.”

“Yeah,” Prussia snorted, “exactly why I figured you wouldn’t have one.”

Russia frowned. “Anyway, I thought we could go out to lunch, and do some grocery shopping as well. We’re running low,” he said, pointedly looking at where Prussia sat on the couch. Food wrappers, empty boxes, and plates littered the area around him.

Prussia laughed. “Yeah, guess so! Good thing, too. I just finished your secret stash of cakes you didn't think I knew about.”

~

Russia had planned on shopping for clothes first, but Prussia's insistent complaining had them sitting in a restaurant, pondering what to order. He suggested they each order a modest meal, and got laughed at.

“I dare you to order everything on the menu.”

“No,” Russia stated firmly, not looking up, “we would be here all day, and we have things to do.” 

“But what if _I_ ordered everything on the menu?”

“Then I would leave you here and wouldn’t come back.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll compromise. We each order a meal, then your order all the appetizers and I order all the desserts, and we share,” Prussia insisted.

Russia looked up. “Will it get you to stop?” Prussia nodded eagerly. “Then _you_ can order all the appetizers and desserts.”

“Great!” Prussia beamed. “Besides, you should be full when shopping for clothes, since you probably will be while wearing them. Also, buy them bigger than you are.”

Russia gave him a Look. “I’m trying to lose weight.”

Prussia snorted. “Sure you are.”

The server came by and Russia ordered salad and a small chicken dish. Prussia, true to his word, ordered steak and potatoes, as well as the entire appetizer and dessert menus. The server looked vaguely appalled, but Prussia just winked and sent her on her way. Russia rolled his eyes as Prussia grinned at him.

The appetizers came and Russia poked at his salad before starting to eat. Prussia, on the other hand, dove right in. By the time their meals arrived, Russia’s salad was left forgotten and half-eaten as he watched Prussia eat. Nearly everything was gone. Of course, Russia had watched him eat plenty of times at home, but there whatever they ate was laid out on the table. Prussia knew how much and what was there, so could pace himself to make sure he got what he wanted, or push himself to finish if it was feasible.

That was not so in a restaurant.

When their meals came, Russia finished his quickly and watched Prussia. Prussia finished easily but it looked as though he was starting to slow. Russia smirked. “Do you regret your decision?”

“Not a chance!” Prussia beamed. “Besides, you know you’re going to help me with the next course.”

That was true. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Russia would most definitely be enjoying the desserts.

And he did. While eating dessert, Prussia slowed considerably. At home, Russia would have rubbed his stomach, fed him, encouraged him, but here he could only verbally encourage him to keep going, saying things like, _Just one more bite_ , and _Come on, you’re nearly finished!_ Soon, though, Prussia pushed a plate away and leaned back, panting. “No more. I can’t do it.”

So, Russia being the good guy that he was, took over and easily cleared the table. Feeling pretty full but not completely, he paid and helped Prussia to the car...where he immediately perked up.

“Oh my _God_ I cannot believe you fell for that!”

Russia looked startled. “What?!”

“Russia, I’ve been eating like crazy for weeks. Did you really think I couldn’t finish if I tried?”

Russia blushed. “That means...you tricked me!”

Prussia laughed. “Well _yeah_! I couldn’t let you just _watch_ me have all the fun!” He took a deep breath and unbuttoned his pants. Releasing it, he watched his stomach expand and sighed. “Gotta say, though, that feels a million times better.”

Russia smiled. “Do you want to get new clothes, too? Since it seems you’re growing out of these.”

Prussia beamed. “Not yet! I’ve still got a lot of wear out of these. Besides,” he said, leaning over to Russia and lowering his voice, “when I’m finished with these, I can just use yours.”

Russia blushed deeply. “Gilbert! I’m trying to drive.”

“Really?” Prussia said, ghosting his hand along Russia’s thigh. “Does that mean I can’t do this?” 

Russia practically shrieked, and it was hilarious. “ _Relax_ ,” Gilbert laughed, “I was just going to undo your button, too. It looked like you needed it.”

“They’re _elastic_ ,” Russia grit out, “They don’t _have_ a button.” Then in a more normal, albeit forced, voice, “Oh look we’re here, get out of the car!”

Prussia grumbled a bit, zipping up his jacket to cover where his pants were undone before getting out of the car. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“With?” Russia asked, as they entered the store. 

“With you. Here. While you shop. Do you want me to do anything, help?”

“No,” Russia said, looking out at the racks of clothes. “I don’t need your help. You can go look at whatever you want. Just meet back here in...an hour?”

Looking a bit put-out, for whatever reason, Prussia nodded. “Sure, an hour. See ya.” He wandered off to the home goods section.

Russia went towards the men’s department. Feeling a bit daunted, he picked up pants in varying sizes and shuffled off to the fitting rooms.

~

An hour later Russia had bought three pairs of pants, seven dress shirts, and four sweaters in his new size. He also bought two new belts in black and brown, and a pack of undershirts and boxers. He shifted his weight while waiting for Prussia, adjusting and readjusting his pants in the process. There really was no comfortable way to wear them.

Prussia walked up, carrying a bag and eating some chocolate. “Man, this stuff is so good. Want some?”

Russia put a hand up. “No, thank you. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. We’re gonna shop for food now?” Russia nodded, and Prussia beamed. “Great!”

~

Once home, after all the groceries had been put away (which took forever, as there were many. Russia had let Prussia take over once he got his essentials, and Prussia filled the cart plus another), Russia announced he was going to go work out.

Prussia nearly choked on his pretzel. “ _What_?”

“Yes,” Russia said simply, “I have a gym in the basement. I thought l should start using it again, and since I’m already wearing workout clothes, I have no excuse!”

Prussia looked mortified at the prospect. “But _why_?”

Russia shifted and looked uncomfortable. “Well, I like to, sometimes. Besides, if I don’t start soon, my boss will send me to boot camp to train with my soldiers! That’s not a lot of fun. Would you like to come?”

Prussia looked less than thrilled. “No thanks, I’ll stay here, maybe get dinner started. Don’t push yourself.”

A little put off by the weird domesticity that seemed to suddenly settle upon them, Russia gave a shaky, “sure”, and went into the basement.

About an hour and a half later, though, when Russia had not returned upstairs, Prussia went to check on him. Descending the stairs with a family-sized bag of gummy worms, Prussia worried, a little bit. The stairs opened into a large, carpeted room with a few doors on every wall. He looked at them and jumped at a voice from beside him. “They’re closets.” Prussia turned to Russia, who was standing next to a weight machine by the staircase. “I got the basement finished after you left.”

“It...it looks nice.”

Russia smiled softly. “Thank you. Some are closets and some are rooms, but I don’t usually go in them.”

“Ah,” Prussia said, before hitting him with his gummy worms. “You said you wouldn’t work too hard! Look at you, you’re disgusting. What the hell did you do?”

Russia had to admit, he probably did look pretty gross. He _felt_ gross. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and his undershirt was practically see-through because of how wet it was. His jacket had been discarded long ago. It was a good gross, though. He felt accomplished and kind of giddy, so he grabbed his jacket and threw it to Prussia. “I did some strength training, and then I jogged a little.”

Prussia caught the jacket. It was huge. He put it on to show how huge it was and lifted his arms to prove it. The loose wrists fell back towards his elbow. “Your arms are huge. I bet your bicep is as big as my head!” Russia laughed and flexed. “Christ!” Prussia laughed, “They’re bigger than Germany’s!”

Russia moved to take his jacket back. “Anyway, you promised dinner?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know how long you were gonna be so I figured I’d just order pizza or something.”

Russia hummed, “That’s fine. I’m going to shower and change.”

“Great, it’ll probably be here when you’re done. What do you want?”

Russia shrugged with a “whatever you feel like” before going up to his bathroom.

True to Prussia’s word, the pizza was there when Russia came downstairs in his pajamas. Seeing this, Prussia cleared off the coffee table and brought out a few more bottles of alcohol, deciding it would be a movie night or something. He rushed off to get changed into his own pajamas, telling Russia to put on a movie. Instead, Russia took a box of extra cheesy pizza for himself, settled down in his armchair, and started eating. When he was about halfway through, Prussia came back wearing his standard T-shirt and boxers. Russia stared. 

Prussia’s shirt was loose everywhere except around his waist and hips, where it clung to his belly and budding lovehandles. Prussia saw the staring and struck a pose. “Maybe I should give you a fashion show when I’m finished eating!”

“I think you will be too full to move when you’re finished eating,” said Russia, looking at the pile of pizza boxes sitting on the table.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t plan to eat, like, half of these,.” Prussia said, gesturing to the pile.

“I don’t plan to eat half of these,” Russia deadpanned. “I _could_ , if I wanted to, I’m sure, but I don’t want to. I will maybe eat one more.”

“Oh come on! You’re no fun at all.”

“I am more than willing to help _you_ finish them, though.” Russia finished the box he was working on and reached for another, as well as a bottle of vodka. 

Prussia whined. “I won’t need any help if you eat your share! C’mon, I ordered all these because I thought you’d want in!”

Russia shrugged and went back to eating. He turned himself in his armchair to face the TV better, so that he could occupy his time watching something mindless instead of Prussia. He blushed a little and tried to ignore it.

Watching TV and eating was a terrible idea, though, and _Russia should have known that_ , he’d done it enough on plenty of occasions to know that no matter what he planned on eating, if he added TV into the mix he’d consume far more than planned.

When he reached for his fourth box, Russia broke the curse and noticed the three empty boxes and empty bottle sitting by his chair, a half-drunk bottle in his lap. Rubbing his stomach, he realized that he felt very full. He looked over to Prussia, who had a small mountain of empty boxes and soda bottles piled on the floor next to him. He had a half-eaten box sitting on the only remaining unopened box, both resting on the table. Russia noticed he was slowing down and smirked. “Do you need help?”

Prussia looked him dead in the eye. “Yeah, could you go get dessert? It’s sitting on the counter.”

Russia rolled his eyes and gathered up all the empty boxes to throw them away. On his second trip, for the bottles, he noticed that Prussia had changed positions and was laying on the couch, resting his torso on a pillow that leaned on the armrest to eat easier. His eyes were drooping, so Russia hurried to clean up the bottles and get the dessert out.

He returned with a large plate stacked impossibly high with various cookies. They looked homemade. Resting them on the coffee table, he asked, “Did you make these?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Are they good?” 

Russia tried one and smiled. “Yes, very. I didn’t know you could bake.”

“I can!” Prussia sat up and forced the rest of his pizza down before grabbing a few of the cookies. “I just don’t, usually.”

Russia ate a few more, despite his stomach’s protests. He briefly wondered what Prussia’s felt like. “Why not?”

Prussia shrugged. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can be pretty lazy.”

Russia snorted. “I don’t think ‘pretty lazy’ is accurate. ‘Very’ might be a better adjective, or ‘extremely’.”

“Hey!” Prussia protested, “I could’ve just hollered downstairs to see if you were okay! But I didn’t, I walked down. Besides,” he shoved a few more cookies into his mouth and patted his stomach, “I’ve gotta conserve energy if I want this baby to grow!”

Russia smiled, and then he didn’t. He put his cookie down. “Why? You know that our ‘deal’ isn’t real. You could have left at any time - you could have left the first night! There’s nothing holding you here anymore. You don’t have to gain weight.”

“Yeah, but what if I want to?” Russia looked bewildered at the thought of anyone _wanting_ to do that. “Yeah,” Prussia continued, “what if I _like_ it? What if I thought, ‘hey I love to eat and don’t have to be fit and fight anymore and who cares _so why not_ , so -,” he stuffed more cookies in his mouth and laid back down on the couch.

Russia frowned. He stood up, he walked to Prussia and made to sit on the couch with him, thought better and leaned down to be level with his face. “Gilbert. _Why did you come here?_ ”

Prussia tried looking away, but there was nowhere else to look. Russia’s face took up most of his vision. He reached for more cookies. “West kicked me out, I told you. He told me to go do something instead of moping around the house and stuffing my face all day. Then I saw you in the cafeteria, and you’re fat so I thought hanging around you would help, and it has so thanks.”

“Oh,” Russia said. It didn’t answer the question, and Russia felt more confused than before, and he honestly, _truly_ had nothing more to say. “I’m going to bed.”

“Aw, but - hey!” Gilbert reached up to stop him from leaving, “It’s still early! Are you sure you don’t want to stay up, maybe find something to do?”

 _Why_ did Prussia have to keep acting so - so _erratically_? Everything that came out of his greedy mouth just pushed Russia further into confusion. “Yes,” he said, “I’m sure. I’m tired.”

“Well.” Prussia slumped back on the couch and pouted. “Suit yourself, then.”

“Yes, thank you.” Russia went off to bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh no there was a snowstorm and now all the food will go bad soon what ever shall they do

Some weeks passed and Prussia kept up the _confusing_ actions. He'd offered to help clean, to cook, even tried making _small talk_ asking how his day was going, how he felt, what was new. Russia didn't know how to respond to any of this, and as a result spent a lot of time in the basement working his frustration out (which Prussia sometimes insisted on watching). Russia found Prussia’s physical changes far more satisfying. Prussia seemed to eat constantly now, only not snacking on something while sleeping or in the bathroom, and it showed. His stomach (still constantly full and bloated, but covered in a soft layer of fat) seemed to settle itself on the waistband of his pants, usually covered by a tight shirt but sometimes peaking out. His arms and thighs had gotten thicker and soft. He lost his characteristic sharp angles in his face, and had instead gained softer features and fuller cheeks. 

Russia awoke one day to a soft glow from the window. Upon looking out, he saw it had snowed the night before. Now, he was _Russia_ , so snow was no new thing, but it looked thick and heavy. He sighed and got dressed to shovel the driveway.

On his way to the kitchen for breakfast, he noticed something peculiar. Usually Prussia was, by this time, on the sofa watching some mid-morning show and eating a pre-breakfast snack. Today, however, the TV wasn’t on as Prussia lounged. Russia stopped behind the couch. “Nothing good on?”

“Hm?” Prussia looked up. “Oh, nah, TV’s out.”

Russia nodded and continued towards the kitchen. Prussia hollered from the couch, “Fridge is out, too!”

Russia hurried back out to the living room. Prussia was eating cereal, with milk. Milk from the refrigerator. “Ah, and did you know the refrigerator was not working when you took out the milk?”

Prussia shrugged. “I didn’t know for _sure_ , but I had a guess. The lights in my room weren’t working, so I guess the power’s out.”

“Mn,” Russia said. “But you took it anyway. Tell me, Gilbert, do you know what this means?”

Prussia rolled over a bit so he wouldn’t have to keep looking up. “Means?”

“Yes,” Russia nodded. “Since you opened the door, it means the cold air that _was_ in the refrigerator is not anymore. The inside is now as warm as it is in here. Does it feel cold to you in here?”

“Well, yeah. It’s always cold in here.”

Well. Prussia had him there. Still, though, “But not cold enough to keep food fresh.”

“No,” Prussia said, “Guess not.” 

“No,” Russia agreed, “It’s not. I have a backup generator for the heat, so we won’t freeze. But, Gilbert,” Russia leaned down to be eye-level with Prussia, “What do you suppose we do with all that food in the refrigerator, before it goes bad?”

Prussia pretended to think, then grinned. “Well, hm. I guess we could….eat it?”

Russia grinned back. “I guess we could. I expect you to have something ready by the time I get back.” He pulled on his boots and coat, carefully adjusting his scarf on top. “You remember how to prepare food without electricity?”

“Of course I do! But where are you going?”

“Out. I’ve got to shovel before it freezes and causes more problems.”

“Well,” Prussia said, “have fun.”

~

Prussia waited for the bread to rise and the pork to cook. Both of these would take hours, and Prussia didn’t know what to do with himself in that time. He had put the ice cream and cheesecakes in the sink for now, so if they melted through the box it wouldn’t make too much of a mess. Luckily, Russia had had a large stack of wood near his back door, and his fireplace was still good to use for cooking. Prussia was thankful that _that_ , at least, hadn’t been remodeled.

Shivering, he walked through the halls, munching on a bag of beef jerky and looking for something to do. He lamented the deaths of his laptop and cell phone - without them, he felt lost and very, very bored. At the house he shared with Germany he could, at least, bother him or his friends, or play with his dogs. _Here_ , though, there was no one to bug, and no animals to play with.

Eventually, he found himself in a room he assumed to be Russia’s. A quick peek out the window showed the man in question still shoveling methodically, but not making a lot of progress. Prussia smiled. Time to snoop!

Prussia didn’t really expect to find anything interesting in Russia’s bedroom, and he didn’t. Russia was a pretty boring guy. He looked through his closet, and other than all his clothes being _huge_ and smelling faintly of vodka, there was nothing worth noting (though, Prussia did take a sweater to wear, because it really was cold in there). He found a few pictures of Ukraine and Belarus, and one of the Baltics in Russia’s bedside table, as well as an open pack of cigarettes and a few bottles of vodka in varying states of fullness. Prussia rolled his eyes. He saw there was a book sitting next to the lamp on the table, and went off in search of a bookshelf or something.

Pushing open a door, he stopped. He’d found himself a something, all right. The room in front of him was covered, floor to ceiling, in bookshelves full of - you guessed it! - books. In the center of the room were two plush chairs separated by a table. Smiling at having finally found something to do, Prussia wandered over and began looking for a good book. Browsing the shelves, something in German caught his eye. _Die Physiker_ , the title read. Prussia shrugged and grabbed it.

On his way back to the living room to check on the cooking food, Prussia stopped by the front door to shout out to Russia. “Why don’t you come in and take a break?”

“I’m fine,” Russia shouted back.

Prussia stepped out. “But it’s cold out, and you haven’t even eaten breakfast. At least come have some cereal.”

Russia shrugged and Prussia went back inside. Once Prussia was back on the couch with the book and a new bag of Cheetos, Russia stepped in. He stomped his feet to get rid of the snow, and hung his coat on a rack. When he sat down to take his boots off and put on slippers, he noticed the bread and meat cooking over the fire. “Can you make tea?” 

“Um. Sure.” Prussia got up to search for the kettle. 

Russia followed along soon after and got out a large bowl and a box of cereal. While reaching for the milk, he finally noticed the sweater Prussia wore. He asked, “Is that mine?”

Prussia looked around. Everything was Russia’s, it was his house. “Um. Yeah?”

“Where did you get it?”

Prussia frowned. “From right here? You saw me take it out.”

Russia rolled his eyes. “Not the kettle. The sweater. My sweater. My sweater that was at the bottom of my closet.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah I went looking for something big and warm, because it’s cold in here. Nothing I brought is very big or warm, so I thought you’d have something.”

Taking a bite of cereal, Russia nodded. “Well. It fits you better than me. You can keep it, though I can’t say I’m pleased you were digging around in my closet.”

“Oh, please,” Prussia said, “As if there was anything interesting in there, anyway. Trust me, I won’t be going anywhere near your room again.”

“That’s because I keep important things in storage in the basement, where they’re locked up. And my porn is in my office, which is also locked.”

Prussia choked on a Cheeto and Russia laughed. “You don’t have porn!”

Russia shrugged and smiled. “Maybe I don’t. But you’ll never know.”

Prussia groaned as he took the kettle out to hang above the fire. Russia finished his cereal and went back outside. 

A few hours later, all the food from the freezer was cooked and thawed and ready to be consumed. Prussia had moved the desserts to the snow by the back door to keep them cold and to free up the sink while he prepared their feast.

Finally, Russia came back in and Prussia let him take a nap by the fire. Once Russia started snoring, Prussia took a break from the food and tried massaging Russia’s shoulders. Russia twitched and tensed at the contact and Prussia jumped back, afraid he’d been caught. Upon inspection, however, Russia was still sleeping. Deciding not to push his luck, Prussia put a blanket on him and restocked the fire before going back to the kitchen.

Soon the feast was ready. Prussia woke Russia up, and led him into the dining room where the food was laid out. Soft afternoon sunlight reflected off the snow and provided the light for the room. 

Russia looked at the spread. “Good job,” he said, “It looks good. You weren’t finished by when I told you to, but I suppose I can forgive you. If it’s good.”

“Of course it’ll be good! It’ll be the best damn meal you’ve ever had, because I made it!”

Russia smiled. “I doubt that, but I’m sure I will enjoy it.”

They both sat down, and Prussia unbuttoned his pants with a smirk. “I don’t want to have to stop and do it later.”

Russia shrugged and started filling his plate. Prussia followed suit, piling his plate high with food. They ate in silence, both thoroughly occupied with enjoying the meal.

Russia didn’t feel guilty eating so much, since he’d barely eaten breakfast and had been shoveling snow all day. As a result, he ate until his stomach was hard and felt well past full. He tried pushing his pants down to make room for his stomach, but when they wouldn’t go any further just undid the button. He leaned back, rubbing his belly and wondering if he’d make it to his chair for another nap, when he saw Prussia across from him, still going strong.

Prussia had forgone the portions that plates provided and just ate directly from the platters and bowls on the table. Russia wondered if Prussia intended to clear the table, and figured he might as well. There was nowhere to put the food to keep it fresh, anyway. Russia shrugged and ate a bit more, before Prussia interrupted him. “Hey, go get the dessert outside the back door. But save some for me.”

Russia furrowed his brow but nodded, and found a few quarts of ice cream and a cheesecake by the back entrance, buried under a layer of fresh snow. He’d have to shovel again.

Standing in the kitchen, he started on the cheesecake while looking for bowls to put the ice cream into. He thought about using the last of the milk to make milkshakes, and looked for that, too. While crushing up some fruit and ice and mixing them into a pitcher of ice cream, Russia reached for more cake and saw there was none left. Kind of embarrassed but not really surprised, he put the empty container in the trash, shoving it down. He finished the milkshakes and drank a few mouthfuls of each before putting them on a tray to bring out to Prussia, just to make sure they were good. They were, but now he felt a bit sick.

When he reached the living room, he noticed Prussia was back in his spot on the couch. A quick glance to the dining room showed that, amazingly, the table was devoid of food. Russia went closer to Prussia and set the tray on the coffee table. He looked closer at Prussia, who looked how he felt. “You don’t look well,” Russia said.

“Yeah, well. I may have overdone it a bit.” He looked at the pitchers. “What’s that?”

“Milkshakes. I thought it would be easier for you to drink the ice cream. But maybe you should wait a little.”

“Nah,” Prussia waved him off. “I can handle it.”

“If you’re sure.” Russia picked up two of the pitchers, handing one to Prussia before nudging his legs to let him sit down. Ignoring his own aching gut, Russia leaned over and rubbed Prussia’s stomach. He continued sipping from his pitcher, and switched with Prussia once his was empty. Russia put the empty one down and grabbed the next two. Repeating the process, he watched as Prussia’s stomach expanded before his eyes. His pants seemed to dig into his belly even though they were already unbuttoned, and he could see the outline of his stomach through the large sweater.

Russia picked up the last pitcher. “Once you’re done with this, we can go to bed.”

“Are you gonna carry me? Because that’s the only way I’m leaving this couch,” Prussia said. Russia laughed, and once the last pitcher was empty, hoisted Prussia up onto his feet. Prussia groaned, and Russia led him to an unused room with a large bed. 

Russia let Prussia collapse on the bed, then walked around to the other side before also laying down. He groaned and started rubbing his stomach. They laid like that for a few moments before Russia said, “I think I ate too much.”

“Oh, really? _You_ ate too much? I ate everything on the table.”

“ _Almost_ everything,” Russia retorted. “I helped. And I ate a very good, but very thick and creamy cheesecake. And milkshakes.”

Prussia whacked Russia’s arm. “You didn’t eat the milkshakes, I did. You just handed them to me.”

“And why do you think you went through them so fast? They were half-full when you got them.”

Prussia let out a bark of laughter. “You fucking fatass,” he laughed, “I thought you were trying to lose weight?” He rolled over and reached towards Russia. “Let me rub your belly.” 

“What?” Russia said. “No!”

“Oh, come on! You always rub mine! I want to return the favor,” Prussia insisted, “You’ll like it. It feels better when someone else does it.”

Russia grumbled a little before slowly moving his hands away. Prussia grinned and sat up a little, pushing Russia’s sweater and undershirt up to his chest to expose his stomach. He rubbed in slow circles, admiring the expanse of soft, pale flesh. It was surprisingly warm, and Prussia wanted to cuddle up on it to nap. He traced his fingers along the ridges where his ribs were hidden, the dips and curves of his waist, stuck his fingers into the deep belly button. Prussia put his ear to Russia’s stomach and heard it working to digest the food. Russia gave a little moan and Prussia gave a small kiss to his soft underbelly. 

“What are you doing?” Russia asked, too tired and full to jerk away.

“Just admiring how cute you are.” Prussia responded.

“Mn,” Russia said sleepily, “You’re cute, too.”

Prussia smiled. He cuddled up next to Russia, resting his head on the larger nation’s shoulder, and fell asleep rubbing his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this that's all I've written, I don't know what comes next. I wanted the next chapter to be the last maybe, but don't know how to end it. If you have any ideas hmu PLEASE 
> 
> I don't want this to be unfinished forever.


End file.
